Wednesday, January 31, 2007


Suzanne Somers arrested for writing a bad check, 1979, San Francisco

I just got back from Walgreens. I had a little panic attack about going to LA. I think it just hit me that I am going. I feel like I shouldn't write it down- like it will jinx the trip. I shouldn't talk about it on my blog... NO MORE MAGICAL THINKING!! Conducting life in a metaphysical superstitious way is ridiculous. "I can't wear this because then this will happen," etc. No more of that for me and you too.

Anyway, so I had to go buy cigarettes at Walgreens. Walking there, freezing cold listening, to Dreamgirls soundtrack. One Night Only! One Night Only! Homeless man asks for money. "Help the homeless tonight?" Can't. Looked around for things to ease the anxiety. Bought cigarettes, Krunchers Jalepeno potato chips, Brownie Mix, Chocolate cake icing, Diet Pepsi and Prilosec for the acid reflux. Stopped at Blockbuster- tried so hard to find something to rent/buy. Nothing.
Took the #145 bus 3 blocks back to my house- couldn't possibly walk.

Got home and realized I didn't have 2 eggs or vegetable oil to make the brownies. That was okay because what I really wanted was my signature dish-

Clinical Depression Double Layer Jalepeno Delight

1 bag of Krunchers Jalepeno potato chips
1 bag of Chihahua Cheese (can substitute any meltable cheese)
1 microwavable bowl

Empty one half bag of chips into the microwavable bowl. Empty half bag of cheese on to the chips. Empty the rest of the bag of chips and top with remaing cheese. Microwave for 1.5-2 minutes. Eat with fingers.

Ate almost the whole bag. It did ease the anxiety (along with a "nerve pill").

But what's got me calmed down is watching Suzanne Somers sell her products on HSN. If you haven't heard, Suzanne's home in Malibu went up in flames!

Suzanne's statement? "My nature is to look at the glass half-full. I don't have a son or daughter in Iraq. I haven't lost a loved one. We will rebuild, and I truly believe we will learn something great from this experience."

I think we will all learn from this experience.

Right now, Suzanne is selling the facemaster!
"A more youthful, more toned version of you!"
"Catch things before they fall apart!"

A comment on the product from forum member-
"A group of us tried this and it is a torture device! First we thought we had the intensity turned up too high. Even on the lowest intensity we were screaming in pain! The twitching/muscle spasms that occur when the probes are placed on different parts of the face is downright creepy, even your scalp/hair folicles twitch! The laughs we had at the face spasms bordered on hysteria and made us forget the pain for a bit. My friend says she''ll use it again. I''ll just watch her face twitch!" -Extremely Painful

An open letter to the author of this comment:

Dear Extremely Painful,
First of all beauty is not a party activity. When you mentioned "a group of us" tried the Facemaster I knew that you weren't serious about the Somersize program. As amusing and whimsical as Suzanne may present her products, beauty is not a party. Somersizing is not a walk in the park. Whining about pain doesn't get you anything. Beauty is painful. Suzanne's house just burned down!! You don't hear her griping about pain. Suzanne picks her self up, dusts her self off, shovels on some makeup and drags her products to HSN and she's working all day- a week after her beautiful Malibu compound went up in smoke.. She's a child of an alcoholic (as she mentions repeatedly on her HSN programs), but she is working her clickety click sculptured nails to the bone for us. Drop it!


Monday, January 29, 2007

cleaning out my closet

seventeen degrees outside. seventy seven degrees inside. it is difficult to moderate temperatures with a radiator. did i mention that grey gardens is a masterpiece playing nightly in nyc. i saw it with kara.

my response to the book lying by lauren slater for creative non-fiction:

One thing that struck me most in Slater’s book was her discussion about “falling.” I underlined this passage in my book:

I think secretly each and every one of us longs to fall, and knows in a deep wise place in our brains that surrender is the means by which we gain, not lose our lives…We want to go down, and it hurts to fight the force of gravity. (Slater 51)

I have been practicing falling my whole life. I am constantly having big dramatic breakdowns in my life (sometimes self induced, sometimes not). I spend days, weeks, months recovering from some overblown tragedy. A comment that someone made, a breakup, a bad grade, etc. The world cracks into a “million little pieces” and I have to pick it all up and start all over again, always on the look out for the next fall. It always catches me off guard and down I go.

My goal is to be able to get up quicker, less bruised. I want to work through the drama and get on with it. I must be getting something out of putting myself through it. Perhaps it’s safe to me, a song and dance I’ve grown accustomed to. I’m sick of it frankly, and I’m trying not to let stuff get to me. But it’s hard when you’ve grown accustomed to the game of falling.

Wisdom from my father:

Wisdom from Tony Wells:

(some I adhere to, some I do not)

1. Don’t leave the knife with peanut butter in the sink.

2. If you are going to clean something clean it all the way- don’t half ass it.
-Like if you’re going to vacuum, get every single piece of dust or dirt off of the floor or what’s the point? Even if it means picking microsopic pieces of dirt up by hand.

3. Don’t waste time watching a movie you’ve already seen.
-Everytime we went to the video store, I would want to rent “9 to 5” and I would
have to go through a lot of red tape to get my way. But I got it.

4. Joan Crawford said “No Wire Hangers, Ever!” For my dad it’s “No Candles, Ever!”
-To my dad, candles are the work of the devil. He recently confessed that he had a stash of candles that he would steal from my room. He did not tell me where they were, and I suspect I will never know.

5. Anyone and everyone is worth talking to and making friends with.
-My dad is the most generous and understanding person. He can talk to anyone and has the most forgiving heart. He rarely ever gossips or puts anyone down behind there back. Rather, he tries to understand where they are coming from or just accepts them for who they are. This is the most important lesson I’ve learned from my father.

6. Mayonaisse and ketchup mixed together is the perfect sauce for fish.
-I thought my dad invented this.

7. Woody Allen is annoying.

something new

things someone said that have been echoing in my mind lately

"what's more pathetic- having talent and no ambition? or ambition and no talent?"
something about, "...people who peak in high school"
in business "you always need a product"

why do these statements echo in my mind so much.

the plan for the day:

1. Plan something to do while I'm in LA, Feb 1- Feb 4
2. Get outside, no matter how cold.
3. Call therapist and make an appointment.
4. Add more videos to The Jeremy Show Video Vault.
5. Maybe try to get Wicked tickets!
6. Fuck if I know.

Friday, January 26, 2007


i just devoured 2 grilled cheeses with ham, prepared on my george foreman grill (christmas present from my sister). on the side i had ranch dipping sauce for the sandwiches. i have been very into dipping sauces lately. yesterday, i had a late lunch with my man companion erik at burger king. i had a chicken sandwich with onion rings. i dipped my onion rings AND my sandwich in the onion ring sauce. im feeling the need to lubricate bread lately-- too dry. i am becoming very neurotic with bread. i remember there was some girl on montel once that had a fear of bread. i now have this fear. i feel like its always on the verge of becoming moldy. i can never finish a loaf of bread. i use 2-4 slices and then feel like the rest is contaminated and it goes in the garbage. i feel safe when the bread is toasted (as in the aforementioned sandwiches). golly, this is not what i came to write about.

drawerful of pantyhose

we all got problems. it's backbreaking being alive. you try to clean it all up. clean your apartment, do the dishes, do laundry, go grocery shopping. the next day you have to do it all over again. its madness. all with a smile on your face and a "i'm doing pretty good." and we're all not. we're all doing terrible. we're all treading water.

everythings dirty. everything is a big mess. i guess this is when im supposed to have kids and all of the petty things just slip away. the only thing that matters is my baby. well i cant have no baby! im sorry. im a fag. im gay. having a baby would be a disaster. and what do i leave to the world? ugh! to think of my personal effects at a thrift store with old ladies and hipsters picking through them. disgusting. they'd lift one of my sweaters to their nose and smell stale smoke and move on. as they should.

let me tell you. im trying to be semi healthy. for me that means making sure i eat before 5. most days i wait until i feel like im going to pass out. then i overcompensate by having a disgusting plate of starch and cheese and then i pass out into a carb induced coma. im barely alive. fueled only by nicotine and caffeine. not to mention a laundry list of psychotropic medicine that would make elvis nervous. this is the hand i was dealt. or that i dealt myself or a combination of the two. i dont remember how i got here.

so many birthdays and holidays and babies. i cant keep up! so sick and tired of pretending, putting on a celebratory show. what would be the perfect gift, the perfect surprise to show i care? enough already. stop the world i want to get off! truer words were never spoken. who created this merry go round? time to throw all my crap off the balcony into the dumpster and scrounge up some money, hop on a plane to asia or india or africa and disappear amongst diseased poultry.

i want simple. i want to clear the surfaces. nothing but an ashtray, a glass of water and a pen and pencil. i dont need all this crap: blank dvds, prom pictures, a library of books with overt or subtle homoerotic tones. why do i have to store all this? who am i storing it for. for reference? what am i referencing? what am i ultimately doing with all this garbage???

from real simple, march edition:

"master bedroom"

PICK AND CHOOSE: Furniture that didn't match (and not in an interesting, eclectic way ) and shelves overflowing with DVD's and books gave the room a garage-sale look. Getting rid of the dresser and and two bookcases was a start. Felicia relocated some things and tossed the rest. 'I work at home now' says Felicia, a scrapbooking consultant. 'Why do I need a drawerful of pantyhose?"

Felicia seems to be getting her shit together and so should I. But I rented two movies from Blockbuster (not to mention four movies that I already have out from Netflix and a bunch I bought during several Best Buy blitzes over Christmas) and somehow that takes priority over everything. I guess I feel like if I watch these movies I might have the chance of connecting with or escaping into a fantasy world.

And that's what it all comes down to. Fantasy. What sort of fantasy am I living in? Why can't I just stare my life right into the eyes and say, "Mister you got a big mess to contend with. Some animal, some cat got in to your life and puked up hairballs all over the carpet and it's time to clean it up."

Monday, January 15, 2007

from the jeremy show vault

Here are some never before read blog posts from the jeremy show vault...



Hey listen folks I'm just up on the third floor drinking a slimfast and feeling shitty. I guess it boils down to work. I am pissed off that I have no money but I have made no attempt to find work.

I don't want to work at an irritating coffee shop. I wouldn't mind getting the random hot guys latte. It's the training and the names of blends and roasts and coffeephilia that really gets under my skin. Blechh.

I don't want to work at an office. Lots of negative energy all around. Ladies waiting to get married or waiting to get divorced.

dreaming of bush
i dreamt i was taking a class and was not getting along with a teacher. i didnt have the right book and was trying to tell the teacher and he didnt give a shit. i went to talk to the principal (played by president bush). he gave me a big hug. he was very understanding at first (and suprisingly sexy) but he turned on me. telling me i was not smart and that my whole college career had been a lie. i left his office. i tried to explain all this to kara and she turned on me too. so i cut the top of my left hand in protest with a bread knife. it started bleeding really badly and looked like chopped meat (probably because i had steak for dinner). we both freaked out and went next door to her neighbors. coincidentally there were paramedics at her neighbors house that bandaged up my hand.

i think i had this dream because i had two pieces of steak for dinner.


Dear dear readers,

I am so sorry I have neglected you. I have been so busy going to school, doing homework and sleeping. You know how I get this time of the year.

Right now I'm listening to Janet Jackson's fabulous new album 20 Y.O. Janet is not 20 years old. It has been 20 years since she released "Control." It's pretty good. I am also enjoying Justin Timberlake's new album. Sexy in a Jackson wannabe sort of way.

What are you gonna fix?

feeling ill since last night. got all queasy. erik lovingly served me a hot pocket for energy, at my request. it helped a little. we watched the rest of truth or dare and then i went to bed. i decided last night that i simply did not have enough strength to go to my 1:00 class. exhausted and dramatic.

thought i had a terrible fever. discovered that it was my radiator on full blast.